Right Moves
by Miyabita
Summary: AU. Co-written with ariviand. When Alec comes out to Jace, the "relationship" that ensues between them is nothing like he expected. Enter Magnus Bane, Can he turn the tide in his favor and show Alec what he's missing?
1. one

**Disclaimer:** Alec, Jace, Magnus, and all other characters in this work are from _The Mortal Instruments_ trilogy by Cassandra Clare and do not belong to us. No money is being made… trust us, we'd know, poor fangirls that we are.

**Author's Note – From Mel (miyabita):** Well, **ariviand** and I had been kicking around the idea of trying to co-author a piece, and this is what resulted. Some sections, one of us wrote, some sections we logged and then merged together. Because we went with what felt right, we won't be using any differentiations when posting this to designate who wrote what, since sometimes it's near impossible to do that. I certainly hope you enjoy this "what if" scenario we've developed. Feedback is always welcomed. ^_^

**Warning:** This fic deals with a lot of mature concepts, one of which is sex between two men. If you're not old enough, you should stop reading right here.

* * *

_Just paint the picture of a perfect place_

_They've got it better than what anyone's told you_

_I know we've got it good_

_But they've got it made_

_And the grass is getting greener each day._

—One Republic | All The Right Moves—

* * *

Right Moves

—a joint fic by **ariviand** and **miyabita**—

I.

Jace's fingers dug into the scarred skin of Alec's hips. There'd be bruises in the morning, but it was a small price to pay in Alec's mind. Just like it didn't bother him _too _much – although he'd be lying if he said it didn't hurt – that Jace had practically shoved him onto the bed the moment they entered his room, pausing only long enough to lock the door and rip off the belt of his pants. Alec had forgotten to put the lubricant in an easy to reach place. He was almost certain he'd be paying for this in a few hours.

_It doesn't matter_, he thought, dazed. _It's Jace… Jace… Jace…_

His fingers curled into the pillow as he pressed his face against it, stifling his cries. Jace was afraid of getting caught, and Alec knew the boy would probably stop if Alec got loud. It had happened once, regrettably, and Jace hadn't "visited" him for at least two weeks.

Of course, none of these little "quirks" really mattered to Alec. What mattered was that Jace was here, with him, and Alec knew it would only be a matter of time before the boy admitted that he loved Alec. That they weren't just "friends with benefits"… or whatever Jace wanted to believe this was.

Jace's rhythm was becoming disjointed now, as it usually did when the young man was close. Alec's favorite part had once been watching Jace's face when he came. Of course, the blonde Shadowhunter felt unnerved at the other boy's gaze, and Alec lately found himself on his stomach whenever they were together. Alec knew he should be bothered, but he didn't want to lose what he had with Jace. He remembered the expression on Jace's face in vivid detail, anyway; he held it in his mind whenever he felt Jace was close.

There was a sharp intake of breath near his ear, and Jace thrust deep. It hurt, and Alec tasted blood on his lip from where he bit down hard to keep from crying out. He savored the heat pouring off Jace's skin for a few more seconds – he loved that heat against his back, as his skin was typically prone to chill easily – before the boy pulled away, slipping off the bed and rummaging around on the floor for where he had thrown his belt.

Alec inclined his head to watch, unable to move due to the pain in the lower half of his body. Well, he supposed it didn't hurt _that_ badly; he'd been scratched by demons on previous occasions, and that always hurt like a bitch. He supposed the real reason he didn't move was because he was still aroused. Usually, this was never the case when Jace left for the night, but Alec chocked it up to the recent distractions and "complications" that had cropped up in both their lives just a few days ago.

Not to mention that he was easily embarrassed and didn't want Jace to see he was still fully aroused. For some reason, it made him feel dirty… like Jace would think Alec was always lusting after him or something. And _that_ definitely wasn't true. He thought about other things…

Jace was looking around for his stele now.

"The dresser," Alec managed to get out. His throat felt dry.

Jace looked at him, as if surprised to see Alec on the bed, before looking at the dresser where he had left his stele and seraph blade. He gave a nod of thanks to Alec before grabbing them and threading them through the loops on his belt.

"Good luck at the Silent City."

Again, Jace turned to look at him, raising an eyebrow this time. "Thanks. We'll be back later."

And with that, he left Alec's room, closing the door behind him.

When he had come out to Jace, Alec had expected the other boy to do one of two things – shun him or accept him. Jace had done the latter. Alec had been happy at the time, wondering what that meant down the road… if Jace's pretenses of flirting with pretty girls were just that and nothing more. Wondering if maybe he could finally have something with the boy; after all, Jace knew he was gay. Alec wouldn't have to pretend anymore.

Alec's wish had come true about a month after the revelation. But the something he had with Jace was not the something he had hoped for deep down. Mundies called it "friends with benefits", but Alec thought that was a dirty, degrading term. He preferred to think of it as furthering the link between he and his _parabatai_. Jace preferred to not speak of it at all, but had developed a routine of hunting down Alec when they came back from missions and the like, typically following him down the hallway, closing the door, throwing his weapons somewhere in the room, and then losing himself in Alec's skin.

The first time this had happened had been awkward. Alec had been keenly aware of Jace following him, but the blonde wouldn't say anything until they were safely in Alec's room, door locked. When Jace proceeded to bring up the conversation they had had (well, not much of a "conversation" as the boy had simply given him a blank stare as Alec nervously admitted he was rather taken by Jace) Alec had felt his heart pound. When the blonde had moved on to admit he had an interest in having a relationship with Alec, he had had to pinch his inner wrist to prove to himself that he was, in fact, not dreaming. He had moved towards Jace then, his fingers twitching, eager. Alec had tried to kiss him, but Jace pulled away at the last second. He wasn't ready for kissing, he had said. Kissing seemed too personal. He didn't want a really personal relationship; he didn't want to be tied down.

Even though he had known exactly what Jace had meant, Alec hadn't had time to be hurt or to think about what accepting Jace's proposition meant for the two of them. He hadn't had time to think of anything except Jace suddenly pushing him down onto the bed, ripping his shirt, undoing his pants, and touching him. That first time… Alec would always remember that first time. Jace had been unsure, touching him with a certain hesitance that had sent small shivers down his spine.

It was the one and only time the blonde would touch him like that.

Alec always thought about that time whenever they were together. Even though Jace claimed he could never love Alec "like that", that one time made him think differently, made him think it could be possible some day, made him wonder if tomorrow would be the day when they'd return from a mission and Jace would kiss him, touch him softly, gently, almost tenderly.

_Tomorrow. Maybe tomorrow._

Slowly, he let his hand wander down to his erection, pretending it was Jace who was getting him off.

/

The real problems had started a little less than a week ago, and Alec knew there was only one person to blame for it all – Clarissa Fray. He'd had misgivings about the mundane the second she had appeared in Pandemonium, proclaiming that they were killers if they hurt the pretty boy with blue hair.

The boy had been a demon. Alec had been close to slapping the girl for her sheer stupidity. She'd almost gotten Jace killed.

Jace had let Alec heal him, but they didn't have sex that night.

In fact, Jace had only started cornering him in his room again after he'd "rescued" the little mundie from the demon attack at her house. There'd been a knock on his door, then Jace slamming it open, shoving Alec onto the bed, and growling things like, "You don't _listen_" and "You're so _stupid_".

It had been the night things began to go downhill.

Alec knew his "relationship" with Jace wasn't perfect, but he knew they had _something_. Jace flirted with a lot of women, but he _always_ came back to Alec. He wanted to believe that Clarissa Fray would be no different than the Downworlders Jace approached at Taki's, or the mundane women he flashed smiles to on the subway. But this was the first time he'd brought a girl "home" as it were, and the very idea of Clary staying at the Institute downright scared him. She needed to leave, and it needed to be soon, damn it.

Alec rolled over in bed, his backside still aching from the early morning activities. Isabelle would come and wake him in a few hours, until then he could continue to dream about a gentler Jace and a life without Clary Fray.

/

To her credit, Isabelle Lightwood wasn't stupid. She might be stubborn, bitchy, and highly superficial sometimes, but when it came to someone she loved – correction, when it came to her _brother_ – she was highly aware.

And so, as Alec prepared coffee in the kitchen, one look at the cautious way he was walking was enough to tell her that he'd been with Jace again.

There was a time when Isabelle had actually liked Jace, never in a boyfriend-girlfriend way, but in a brother-sister way – the same way she loved Max and Alec. Oh sure, Jace was arrogant, annoying, and a smartass to boot, but he was loyal and honest, and Isabelle could appreciate both those characteristics.

Somewhere along the way, Alec had confided his biggest secret in Jace.

Somewhere along the way, Jace had taken advantage of said secret and started sleeping with her brother.

Isabelle was almost positive that Alec knew that she knew, but neither of them was ready to broach the topic. Still, that didn't mean Isabelle couldn't glare at Jace when he wasn't looking at her and mentally yell at her brother for his stupidity. Jace would never love Alec; Isabelle knew that.

But Alec didn't know that. Or if he did, he didn't want to believe it.

Somehow, to her, it made everything so much more tragic.

"Coffee?" Alec asked, pulling her out of her thoughts.

"Sure."

She watched as he poured a mug and slid it across the table to her. She nodded her thanks before downing nearly half of the hot, brown liquid.

"You're quiet this morning, Izzy." He wouldn't look at her. Isabelle briefly wondered if he was ashamed.

"I was thinking about a party invite I got when we went to Pandemonium," she lied.

That got his attention. And was that a sudden look of relief that passed across his eyes? "Party?"

"A Downworlder party."

"You know Mom and Dad hate it when you go to those things."

Ah, the disapproving older brother. Isabelle wondered at how easy it was for them to fall into old stereotypes, even with so many other things on their minds.

"I didn't say I was going. I said I was _thinking_ about it. Besides, I hear Magnus Bane throws the best parties."

"Who?"

"Magnus Bane, High Warlock of Brooklyn?"

"High warlock… right." Alec stirred his coffee. Isabelle made a tsk-ing sound of disapproval.

"Oh come on! You can't possibly tell me you've never heard of him."

"I hate Brooklyn." It was a non-committal answer.

"You hate a lot of stuff… yet for some reason, I put up with you." She finished the rest of her coffee, flung her hair over her shoulder and stood up. "You should come with me."

"So now you're going?"

She was about to respond when two things happened almost simultaneously. First, the bell to the Institute rung, signaling that someone was at the door. Second, Alec's cell phone rang; the caller was Jace.

Alec promptly walked out of the kitchen to handle the phone call in private. As he left, Isabelle couldn't help but frown, realizing she needed to do something about her brother's attraction to Jace.

And soon.

/

"Jace, is everything okay?" Alec had retreated to one of the nearby rooms, away from his sister's knowing gaze. He leaned against the closed door, phone still pressed against his ear.

"Yeah, we're heading back now."

"Oh." He had thought it would be something more important, and was it really necessary to bring the mundane back?

"Geez, Alec, don't sound so happy."

"I'm—"

Jace cut Alec off. "I need you to do something for me."

For a brief second, Alec had the strangest urge to say "No". "Sure, what's up?"

"We got a name – Magnus Bane. I need you and Izzy to do some research and meet us later at Taki's."

The back of Alec's head hit the door with an audible thump. If the whole situation wasn't so pathetic on his end, he'd be half tempted to laugh.

"He's the High Warlock of Brooklyn, Jace."

There was silence for a moment. Alec was about to ask if everything was all right, when Jace whistled.

"Nice," he drawled. "So a warlock has been playing mind games with Clary. This just gets more interesting with each passing hour."

_Not really_, Alec thought. _Actually, I wish you'd never met her._

Outwardly, he said, "He's throwing a party. Magnus Bane."

"Really? Even better." There was a muffled sound, and Alec could hear Jace pull the phone away from his ear, probably turning to the mundane girl to ask her a question. A moment later, Jace's voice was back in his ear.

"So where's the party? I'm looking forward to crashing."


	2. two

**Disclaimer:** Alec, Jace, Magnus, and all other characters in this work are from _The Mortal Instruments_ trilogy by Cassandra Clare and do not belong to us. No money is being made… trust us, we'd know, poor fangirls that we are.

**Author's Note – From Miyabita:** Thank you so much for all your reviews last chapter. I apologize for the long wait, so as a proper apology, I'll be putting up a few chapters that have been sitting around in the fic folder of my computer.

**Warning:** This fic deals with a lot of mature concepts, one of which is sex between two men. If you're not old enough, you should stop reading right here.

* * *

Right Moves

—a joint fic by **ariviand** and **miyabita**—

II.

"Change of plans," Jace said, snapping his cell phone shut and letting his eyes focus on the redhead sitting across from him.

She gave him a look that said, "Yeah? What?"

He slid his cell phone back into his pocket. "We'll be meeting them in a few hours at Taki's for an early dinner."

Clary blinked at him, looking confused, but she didn't protest. "Great, I guess. What are we doing until then?"

Jace's lips stretched into a grin, and he tapped on the door of the carriage, giving some directions to Brother Jeremiah before turning back to look at her.

The carriage took a sudden U-Turn, and Clary went sliding into Jace. If she had looked up, she would have seen Jace's grin turn into more of a gentle smile.

/

Alec was in the library, reading, when Isabelle found him.

"What did Jace want?"

He didn't look at her, but his fingers stilled from where they were anxiously rubbing the edge of the book. "What do you mean?"

"He called you earlier, right?"

"Oh. Yeah."

Silence.

"So," she prompted. "What did he want?"

Alec sighed, closed the book on his lap, and looked up at her. "He wanted me to do some research for him on someone named Magnus Bane."

"Déjà vu, weren't we just talking about him?"

Alec nodded. "Yeah, I told him about our conversation. He wants to go to the party tonight, _and_ he wants to bring the mundane girl along."

"Clary? She's with that guy?"

Alec turned, startled at the sound of another voice coming from behind his sister. It was that… mundie boy. What had that girl called him? Stewart? No… it was more like…

"Simon," Isabelle snapped, "I thought you were going to stay in the kitchen."

"Clary's with Jace?" he asked, ignoring Isabelle's glare.

Alec gave Simon – so that was his name – an appraising look. So the guy was a mundane, and he was clearly trespassing where he wasn't supposed to, but damn if Alec didn't have a little bit of respect for the kid. Most guys couldn't stand up to the patented "Isabelle Lightwood Glare", something she had learned from her mother. But Simon seemed unfazed. If the boy was anyone _other_ than Clarissa Fray's best friend, Alec might have shown him some courtesy.

Instead, he snapped, "Yes. She is." Then, to his sister, "What the hell is he doing here?"

"He showed up this morning… when you were on the phone with Jace."

"_Why_ is she with him?" Simon asked. Okay, scratch that "respect" thought; the kid asked too many damn questions.

"None of your business, mundane," Alec retorted.

"That's some great hospitality you've got there. Jace teach you that? Bet he teaches you a lot of things, huh?"

For Simon, it was just one of his normal annoyed quips. Isabelle was fairly certain the boy couldn't have known about Jace and Alec.

There was a tense silence in the room. Isabelle held her breath, knowing instantly how Alec would take the comment, looking from her brother to Simon, about to pull the boy out into the hallway and away from her brother… when Alec snapped.

The book clattered to the ground, and Alec had his hands fisted in Simon's shirt, pushing him backwards against the wall. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" he spat. "What the hell do you know, mundane!"

Simon saw stars for a moment as his head connected with the wall. Then his eyes flickered from Alec's near-murderous expression to Isabelle's look of surprise. He wondered what he had said to set Alec off so badly. He'd seemed tame when they had met the other day. What had changed?

"It was a joke, Alec," Simon said. "Sarcasm, okay?"

"Alec, he's not worth it," Isabelle said from behind him.

It took Alec a moment to register what had just happened, what he was doing, and that he had severely overreacted to the situation. When he did, the flush that lit his cheeks was hard _not_ to miss.

He let go of the boy and headed for the door.

"Alec?" Isabelle called from behind him.

"I'm not feeling well," he said, not turning around. Then, he slammed the library door behind him and headed towards his room.

/

Back in the library, Simon sat on the floor, dazed, and glanced up at Isabelle.

"I didn't mean—," he started.

"Shut up," she snapped, but she didn't move. Simon watched her; it was as if she were trying to work out a complicated math problem in her mind without the aid of pencil and paper. Simon tried, too. He replayed what had happened in his head, what he had said, how it might have been interpreted…

"Oh," he said, as cold realization crept over him. He knew he was a lot of things, but naïve was not one of them.

"He's gay, isn't he?" he asked Isabelle. This time she looked at him.

"I said, shut up!" But she wouldn't look at him, deciding instead to turn around and pick up the book her brother had dropped when he'd gone for Simon's throat.

"I don't care, you know. I'm cool with all types—" It was as far as he got, because Isabelle whirled around, hurling the book at his head. Simon had only milliseconds to duck.

"SHUT UP!" she screamed. "DON'T TALK ABOUT IT ANYMORE!"

This time, Simon shut his mouth. Well, metaphorically he shut his mouth. Literally, it was hanging open in a perfect "O" of surprise as he looked up at Isabelle. She bent down and hauled him up by his shirt collar, pushing him back against the wall.

_Well, this is familiar_, he thought.

"If," she was saying now, her voice low and deadly, "you mention _anything_ to _anyone_ I will personally cut off your balls and feed them to the next demon I see. Are we clear?"

"Crystal," he managed to get out.

Then she was storming out of the library, slamming the door behind her, heels clicking down the hall.

Simon picked up the book, put it back on the table, and slumped into the armchair that Alec had occupied only minutes ago.

/

Isabelle didn't go after her brother for several hours.

Part of the reason was because he needed time to cool off. The other part was because she had no idea what to say.

_Well, that's not entirely true_, she thought now, as she walked down the hallway towards his room, _I'd really like to go through a laundry list of reasons why Jace is a horrible person and should receive a thousand lashes courtesy of my whip._

But she wouldn't; she knew she wouldn't.

Alec's room was at the end of the corridor. When she was younger, she had always hated going to get him for dinner. It felt scary and lonely all the way down here. Now that she was grown, the scary feeling had gone away.

It was just lonely now.

Isabelle knew part of the reason Alec had moved his room down here was to get away from the prying eyes of his parents. Of course, with the amount of time they spent away from the Institute, it was kind of a moot point, but she supposed it was the idea of being close to their rooms. For as long as she had known her brother was gay, had been old enough to understand the concept, she had watched his every struggle to keep his desires a secret, to keep his frustration in check, to suppress what he wanted and give and give and give.

Alec wasn't a saint; Isabelle knew that. He had his flaws and his weaknesses. But when she was little and her parents were away, it was Alec who fed her and bandaged her scraped knees and showed her how to handle a sword. She loved her parents, but she'd do anything for her brother.

And she supposed that was why she let him carry on with Jace, even though she knew it would only hurt him in the end. Because Jace was giving Alec something that he wanted, and Isabelle couldn't bear to take that away from him.

Even if it did mean that he was a little more jumpy lately or a little more quiet.

She knocked on his door. "Alec?" There was no answer.

She tried the knob. Locked.

"Alec Lightwood! I know you're in there!" More knocking.

After two or three minutes of this, the door finally opened a crack. Alec peered back at her, a set of black headphones perched around his neck.

"Sorry. I was listening to music."

Isabelle fought any flash of emotion in her face. She knew her brother only listened to music when he was upset and needed an escape.

"Can I come in?"

"Is the mundane still here?"

"Simon? Yeah, I think he's sulking in the kitchen or something over a cold cup of coffee." She didn't add that he'd stayed in the library for hours, probably avoiding her, before finding her and saying that he intended to stay until they went to see Clary and "that guy". Isabelle wasn't overly fond of Simon at the moment, but she supposed she could empathize with his dislike of Jace. Different reasons, to be sure, but dislike was dislike.

"He should go home."

"He wants to come with us… to see Clary."

"No."

"I'm pretty sure he's coming whether we like it or not."

"Isabelle," and this time she _did_ flinch a little because he _never_ called her "Isabelle" unless he was particularly angry, "we're _Shadowhunters_. Not mundane babysitters."

"I think I know that," she snapped. "But in case you've forgotten, Simon's a big boy and can take care of himself, Alec. He's also obnoxiously persistent and practically joined at the hip to Clary."

She watched the simmer of rage die down in his eyes until he seemed to deflate. "Yeah, I got that. But I don't like this at all. Someone's going to get hurt because of the two of them."

"Look, I'll keep an eye on Simon tonight, okay? I've been to plenty of Downworlder parties before; I know how they operate."

"Izzy, I don't—"

She pointed a finger at him and cut him off. "You need to go with Jace to corner Magnus for two reasons. One, to make sure he doesn't get himself killed. And two, to make sure he doesn't lose focus worrying over this girl. So stop sulking over what happened earlier and go get ready. We're meeting Jace and Clary at Taki's in an hour."

And before he could say another word, she turned on her heel and walked back down the hall. It took exactly one minute for Alec to close the door after she departed. She heard the audible "click" when he did.

/

Alec shoved his hands in his pockets and tried to keep himself from looking too sullen. They had only dined briefly at Taki's, hashing out a battle plan of sorts before Isabelle had pulled Clary off to get her dressed. Alec had loaned Simon a pair of black slacks and a pocketknife before they had departed to meet the others. To his credit, Simon hadn't said anything about the incident in the library. Oh, he had looked as if he had _wanted_ to, but he'd simply remained silent. Alec appreciated that. A lot. That had been part of the reason he'd given the mundane boy the pocketknife. It wouldn't do him much good in a fight against a Downworlder, but it might buy him some time. And it looked enough like a stele that a Downworlder might hesitate before touching him. "Might" being the key word.

Alec's eyes slid over to Simon now. The boy was talking animatedly to Clary, who was listening intently and laughing from time to time. Both his sister and Jace were frowning at the pair. Jace he could understand, but Isabelle's frustration was a mystery (and would probably remain so until she felt like sharing). For his part, Alec hoped that Simon and Clary talked the night away. He hated whatever hold the girl had over Jace. The less time she spent with Jace, the better he'd feel.

Of course, every now and then, Jace would offer her a hand in stepping over a crack or a puddle or some other disgustingly simple obstacle that the girl wasn't able to manage in the heels Isabelle had given her.

Alec wanted the next obstacle to be an open manhole.

The thought was childish, but it made him feel a sick sense of satisfaction at the image the thought brought with it.

"Why are you smiling?" Jace's voice was suddenly in his ear, and Alec fought the urge to jump in surprise.

Trying to come up with something on the fly and failing, he said, "Uh, no reason. I guess I'm just looking forward to tonight."

Jace fixed him with a look that clearly said, "I think you're being an idiot, Alec Lightwood." But he only replied with, "I thought you hated parties."

"I do. But," his eyes fixed on Simon for a second, suddenly finding a scapegoat, and he lowered his voice as he continued, "that guy's been annoying the hell out of me all day, so…"

Jace smirked, understanding dawning in his eyes. "Itching for a fight? The mundane _is_ pretty annoying."

"I heard that," Simon said from in front of them.

"Did you?" Jace asked dryly. "Let me correct, then. You are _incredibly_ annoying."

"You slay me," Simon retorted, voice flat.

"I try." And with that, he was back to helping Clary, his conversation with Alec forgotten.

But Isabelle had heard, and she was now fixing him with her best, "Could you _be_ anymore obvious?" look. He avoided her gaze, but she wasn't going to let him get off that easy.

"Alec," she said.

"What?"

"Could you at least _try_ to have a good time tonight?"

This puzzled him. "Why? We're just going to ask the guy some questions, right?"

Her lips turned down for a second before she sighed. "Yeah, you're right."

But now he was raising an eyebrow. "Izzy? What's up?"

"Nothing. It's been a long day."

He was about to say, "Bullshit, why won't you tell me what's wrong?" but Jace piped up from in front of them.

"We're here. Looks like a lovely shithole, don't you think, Alec?"

Alec turned to look at the blonde, who was looking up, admiring the two-story building. Isabelle made a scoffing sound from next to him before shouldering past them all to finger the set of call buttons next to the front door.

"Please," she said, fixing Jace with a glare, "not all of us can be prissy prima-donnas like you and have a spotless room."

Simon choked on a laugh, and Jace made to retort, but Isabelle had all ready turned around, looking pointedly at the set of buttons before raising a finger and pressing down several times over. The buzzing sound made Alec wince.

* * *

_Again, thank you to everyone for all your wonderful comments and encouragement. Feedback and constructive criticism is always welcomed and appreciated! ^_^_


	3. three

**Disclaimer:** Alec, Jace, Magnus, and all other characters in this work are from _The Mortal Instruments_ trilogy by Cassandra Clare and do not belong to us. No money is being made… trust us, we'd know, poor fangirls that we are.

**Author's Note – From Miyabita:** As promised, here's the next chapter. We hope you like it! (And, by the way, I've replied individually to reviews at the end of this chapter!)

**Warning:** This fic deals with a lot of mature concepts, one of which is sex between two men. If you're not old enough, you should stop reading right here.

* * *

Right Moves

—a joint fic by **ariviand** and **miyabita**—

III.

The speaker crackled. There was a lot of static and background noise, but the volume of the voice allowed the recipient to be heard clearly over all that. "GO AHEAD AND PRESS THAT BUTTON AGAIN. I _DARE _YOU," came the irritable growl.

Lip twitching, Isabelle did just that. She pressed the grimy-looking black button with the end of her fingernail, dragging it out for a couple seconds before releasing the button again. Alec scowled, reaching over and trying to make a grab for his sister's wrist, although it was too late.

Jace seemed amused as well, though he lifted his eyes to the blinking low-wattage bulb overhead with a look of distaste, nostrils flaring. The entryway smelled like a several- days-old dead rat, unclean sweat, old cigarettes, and rotten wood.

The ceiling vibrated and pounded from the sounds of the party overhead - bass music, heavy footfalls, something hitting the wall. The unknown impact made the single light bulb twitch. It blinked out for a second, before warming up again with a hum, a gray moth fluttering at its edge.

Simon unconsciously inched closer to Clary, who stared at the face on the nameplate with a distracted frown.

**BANE**. Magnus Bane.

This time when the speaker crackled, someone was laughing in the background over the static, the sound of music, and the buzz of people talking over one another. But the attendant at the speaker box didn't sound amused. "IF YOU HAVE AN INVITATION, I JUST RESCINDED IT!"

This time Jace eased forward, pressing the talk button. Alec's fingers twitched, but he didn't make a move to stop Jace, even though he was more worried about what Jace might say than Isabelle's impulsive pressing of the button.

"But we got all dressed up," Jace replied, trying to go for a pout. Alec glanced distractedly at that pushed out lower lip, then forcibly shook his head, looking away, heat prickling his cheeks unpleasantly.

"And we do have an invitation. So, why don't you come down here and then you can decide if you still want to kick us to the curb?" It sounded like a challenge - not that Jace had any intention of letting that happen. But he'd rather see the warlock face-to-face than square off with his call box. That was just rude.

Isabelle fluttered the piece of paper in front of her face restlessly like a fan, making the hair against her neck ripple. The scent of her perfume wafted behind her to where Clary was standing, trying not to breathe in the already stale air. Still, the overwhelming rush of vanilla tickled her nose, making her sneeze.

"Bless you," Simon said, touching her arm. "Are you OK?"

"I'm fine," Clary answered, straightening her shoulders. Was he asking about the sneeze itself? Or was he worried that she was nervous to be meeting a warlock with the power to manipulate her mind? She wasn't afraid, or at least that's the mantra she kept repeating to herself. She needed to remember, and this man's name was the only lead she had left.

The seconds ticked on. Jace's pointer hovered over the call button again, feeling trigger-happy. But then the creaking door swung open. Clary and Simon jumped. They hadn't even heard anyone coming down the stairs.

Isabelle smiled and extended her invitation for his inspection. Jace lowered his hand to his belt and leaned his weight onto one leg, lazy eyes panning the man up and down.

Alec tried for the same sort of "lazy confidence" as Isabelle and Jace and failed. He'd seen warlocks before, but none as striking as Magnus Bane (at least, that's whom Alec assumed was "greeting" them). The man looked clearly displeased while also appearing perfectly put together. Not to mention, that amount of glitter and makeup he wore was something to behold. Alec knew one thing almost instantly – Magnus Bane was _not_ in the closet.

Simon's eyes were wide behind his glasses, sure the insane amount of glitter on the warlock's face, throat, hair, and hands must be reflecting off his lenses. He had to blink to be sure that it was glitter that he was staring at, and not some kind of trick of the lighting (what lighting?) or maybe some creepy kind of skin that sparkled.

No, there were definite, distinctive flecks of silvery-white against the man's light, evenly-tanned skin. There was a small silver stud at the edge of his left nostril, and another beneath his lip. There were more obvious piercings along his ears, silver hoops all the way up. His hair was wild, divided into chunky black spikes all over that were covered in a generous coating of glitter and stiff gel.

His eyes were light green battling with an inhuman gold, with disturbing vertical slits like a cat would have. But he looked more like a raccoon, with the dark rings of kohl and eye shadow hiding the droopy division of his lids.

His eyes narrowed as he addressed them, one heavily ringed hand going out and pressing into the paint-chipped doorframe, as if blocking their entrance beyond that point.

"Nephilim," the tall man greeted. It wasn't particularly friendly.

/

Magnus stood in the doorway, regarding the group of teenagers with a bored glance. The look was a ruse, of course, while he reached for calm. What he really felt was hostility and irritation, being interrupted in the middle of his party to play games with Shadowhunters. His eyes briefly dipped down to take note of the invitation the girl was flashing, long enough to positively identity his own work. Then his eyes quickly traveled over the group, counting five of them.

The dark-haired girl was attractive and confident. She had the smile of a girl who liked to be looked at, but the eyes of a Shadowhunter who just dared that admiring person to fall for the trap. Magnus could smell the weapons she was carrying; steles, seraph blades, holy relics and half the interesting toys in a Shadowhunter's arsenal put off a certain stench, easily detected by a half-demon. He wondered vaguely why she bothered to hide them, walking into a party full of Downworlders with just as keen a sense of smell.

The blond boy, on the other hand, made no bones about it. His long fingers went straight to the weapon in his pants, stroking it in anticipation – just waiting for a reason to use it. Magnus assumed the boy wanted him to notice the maneuver, like an urban cowboy brandishing his gun for sport. Magnus was unimpressed with the heat he was packing and sneered at him before his eyes passed to the next member of the group.

He caught the flash of red hair, having to peer between the taller Shadowhunters up front in order to see the girl properly. _Shit._ Clarissa Fray. It was well-past time for their appointed visit. And yet she looked up at him with a mixture of awe, confusion, and a tinge of fear, the muscles in her throat nervously working to swallow. So she didn't have a clue. Just as well.

Beside her, there was an unimpressive-looking four-eyed mundane. He was staring at Magnus. Blatantly staring, like a small child with no couth, not even realizing what he was doing. Magnus lifted his brows, challenging his eye problem. Four eyes looked away, clearing his throat.

Magnus's eyes came back full circle, realizing he'd only assessed four of the five. The fifth boy was standing beside the girl with the invitation. The shade of his dark hair and the type of loose curl closely-remembered the girl, only she had tamed the mass, whereas he looked like he'd given up – and hacked at his hair with a rusty pair of scissors, besides.

But barring the mess of his hair, Magnus was amazed that he'd overlooked the Shadowhunter from the get go. What was Magnus doing looking at the sister (or cousin?), when this boy was absolutely gorgeous? Maybe it was the unkempt hair or the grubby, worn, ill-fitted clothes that threw him off. But now he was looking into the boy's face…._damn_.

And now Magnus was the one staring, looking into those pale eyes, taking in the sharp cheekbones and the pretty mouth, wondering if they were soft or if they'd be slightly rough like the pale tracery of scars on the skin of his neck and his dangling hands.

"Magnus? Magnus Bane?" the girl asked, breaking into his abstraction. Magnus quickly responded with a glare, irritated more by the recent interruption than the original act of being torn from his party.

"That's what the name by the buzzer says," Magnus answered, purposely being difficult about it. "Or didn't you read it before you started playing with buttons?"

"It's the only one with a name," Clary pointed out, staring at the silver placard again like it was bothering her.

"Very astute, Shadowhunter. I'm the only person here who commissioned one."

"You have to pay to get your buzzer labeled?" Simon asked, brows raised.

"In anything but a permanent marker," Magnus replied, looking bored again. "What do you want?" he asked, the previous irritation returning to his voice. His nostrils flared again, this time detecting the faint burning smell from the newly applied marks. It was nauseating, thinking about the Shadowhunters' penchant for self-mutilation. For all he knew, they got off on it. Consequently, they smelled like cheap leather and burnt flesh. Not a hot combination.

"Now, now," Jace tsked, lip twitching. "You haven't even invited us up."

"And I'm not sure I'm going to. I came down, I've seen your invitation, and yet I'm still debating kicking you to the curb."

The humor left Jace's features. He straightened up, still fingering the hilt of the small dagger at his belt, his golden eyes burning through slit lids. "We're not leaving until you hear us out. So you can let us up and we can pretend to join the party, no one the wiser, or we can call a carriage and hitch a ride to the Silent City right now."

"Jace," Magnus heard the dark-haired boy murmur, his jaw tense. The wiry Shadowhunter glanced anxiously between Magnus and his blonde _parabatai_, clearly concerned for the latter.

If he was the type for physical retaliation, Magnus might have decked the boy. Not that that would be the wisest course of action when dealing with three and a half Nephilim, but it might have been satisfying in the moment, to see the boy's neck snap back from an uppercut and his teeth rattle from the force of the blow.

Unfortunately, that wasn't his style. Verbal sparring, on the other hand, came naturally – and while he wanted to bite back at the one called Jace, he wasn't in any particular hurry to bid farewell to the pretty one, as yet unnamed. And so Magnus breathed in and tread lightly, pursing his lips only to show his displeasure.

"So you're not just crashing to steal some faery cocktails," Magnus replied, glancing back at the girl with the invitation.

"That is sweet of you to offer," Jace drawled, putting on his smile again, though his eyes still held a hint of warning. "Why don't we?"

Magnus appeared to consider, lips still pursed. His glance strayed in the direction of the dark-haired Shadowhunter, wistfully stealing a quick perusal of the outline of his body through the dark sack of his clothing. _We'll play this game a little longer. I'll do it for you. _

Turning, Magnus waved his hand to keep the door open, and he moved towards the stairs, already ascending.

"Come on then, Shadowhunters. Before you waste my entire evening." He wanted to add, "don't make me regret this," but he could already foretell a snarky come back from the blonde. And so he pressed his lips together and took the creaky steps two at a time, without a backward glance.

* * *

_And now, as promised, review replies (from Miyabita)!_

_/_

**Katara-alchemist** – Thank you! Sorry to keep you waiting for so long. =(

**Icaughtkira** – I'm glad you liked it! I think ariviand and myself are always talking about the personalities of the characters and trying to keep them as much in-character as possible despite the fact that this is an AU fic. I'm hoping we don't make Jace into a complete evil villain because – at least in my head – I think he somewhat knows what he's doing is wrong but he's also just as confused by the situation. He is an adolescent, after all, and for all his talk and swagger, even in the books, I think real relationships scare him. But, I guess only time will tell where this all goes, yes? ^_^

**-tayl0r** – Thank you! Glad you like!

**DisturbingEmily** – Hope you enjoyed Magnus's entrance! There's plenty more of him to come!

**Lallie Owesome** – Thanks, hope you've enjoyed the new chapters!

**Aleksander-Nikolaevich-Her** – Thank you!

**LA-EL-AS** – Thanks! We enjoy writing together, so I'm glad to hear that other people enjoy it as well!

**Alice-Brandon-Whitlock-Cullen** – Sorry to keep you waiting so long, but I hope it was worth it!

**Awesomesauce123** – Thanks, I'm glad you enjoyed it! And I'm especially glad people think the characters are IC. It's definitely a hard thing to do with AU's. I hope you enjoyed the introduction of Magnus!

**lacenoel** – Sorry to keep you waiting so long, but I hope you enjoyed the new chapters!

**GaaraSands16** – Well, Magnus has been intro-ed. Will he save the day? Only time will tell.

**OnceUponALegend** – Thank you!

**Elizabeth Newforest** – Oh, cookies! I love cookies! *munches on one* Hope you liked the new chapters!

/

_Thanks again to everyone who's reading! Sorry again for such a long wait between chapters, but I hope you haven't given up on us, because we haven't given up on this fic! _

_See you next chapter!_


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